


Widow's Bite

by 1000001nights



Series: Black Widow: Red Ledger [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 13:57:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4789799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000001nights/pseuds/1000001nights





	Widow's Bite

“Nat,” Steve said. He never called her that, not unless something serious was happening. Serious, in the kind of private, quiet way. Most often, he called her  _Romanoff_. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “You don’t have to keep telling me this. I understand.”

“You don’t,” Nat said. “And I do. If I don’t know, I’ll never let it go. But…” She looked around the coffee shop. Children. Families. Couples. “This was a bad idea,” she said. “I want to get out of here.”

“Sure,” Steve said. “We can go back to the safehouse.”

“Alright,” Nat said, getting to her feet. She felt tired, like she was back there, all those years ago. “I need a walk anyway.”

The afternoon was winding down, and as the sun disappeared behind city hall, the air began to cool even further. Nat rubbed her arms instinctively, trying to keep the cold memories at bay. Without a word, Steve took off his jacket. “Here,” he said. “Take it.”

“I’m not a matinee damsel, Rogers,” Nat said. “Keep your coat.”

“Can’t you just accept someone’s help for once?” Steve said. “I’ve got a lot more on me to keep me warm.”

“You calling me skinny?”

“No,” Steve said. “I mean… not in a bad way. You are thin. Well, you’re in shape.”

“Shut up,” Nat said, trying to hide her smile. “Give me the damn coat.”

“This could’ve been a lot easier if you just took it in the first place.”

“Just shut up and walk, captain.”

They walked for some time, meandering through the quiet paths of the Boston Common, Boston’s own, miniature Central Park. Willows hung lazily over the well-worn paths, or over the many small ponds, where tourists pedalled swan-shaped boats, and geese honked as they coasted gently by. The two Avengers walked like any two other people in the crowd, never drawing anyone’s eye for more than a few seconds.

Nat and Steve were used to hiding in plain sight. To most people, they looked like a couple, and they used that to their advantage. Before they’d settled in Boston, they’d searched every SHIELD base on the east coast, and with no resources, no black Lexus coups waiting for them on every corner, they had to improvise.

They’d gotten so good, they almost slipped into it naturally. Especially with Natasha wearing Steve’s coat, it was almost second nature. Nat walked closer to him, and sometimes he put his arm around her. With the baseball cap low over his eyes, he was unrecognizable. No one would spot Natasha; what few pictures of her online were carefully guarded, and rarely trafficked. There was no way to know who she was or what she looked like. Together, as two lovers in the park, even the most highly trained Hydra agent would have to look twice to think anything of them. Just once, Steve put his hand onto Natasha’s waist, just above the hem of her jeans.

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable,” Steve whispered, bending down so his lips were level with her ear.

“Easy, soldier,” Nat said. Steve pulled away at once. “I’m just kidding, Rogers,” Nat laughed. “Just don’t get any bright ideas.”

“It’d be the first time that’s happened,” Steve sighed.

“Come on,” Nat said. “I need to sit.”

They found a bench beneath a willow. Nat sat facing the water, Steve’s coat draped over her shoulders. She folded her hands in her lap, and her breath settled a little, her heart slowing to a gentle rhythm. It was quiet there. Nat savoured it. She had so few moments of quiet in her life.

“I have to ask,” Steve said, after a moment, “you said it wasn’t so bad, at the start. But that, with Yelena… how could it have gotten worse?”

“I meant before, when she and I were friends. But it did get worse. They’d showed we could be broken. Then, they needed to build us into what they needed us to be.”

“Did you see her again? Yelena?”

“Yeah, I did,” Nat said. “Many times. We were partnered together on a lot of missions. I was the only one to become the Black Widow, but the others, the few they thought they could work with, they became agents. But it was never the same. Not after that day, that fight. The program had taken its toll on both of us.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said. “I’ve lost a lot of good soldiers. When I lost Bucky… I thought it would destroy me.”

“It’s not that much different,” Nat said. She looked at Steve in his cool eyes. “At least we have that in common,” she said with a smirk.

“I think we have a bit more than that,” Steve said. “Do you feel like talking any more? What ever happened with Ivan? Did you see him again?”

“Didn’t I mention?” Nat said. “We did meet one more time. After the fight, they told me I’d be graduating, moving up to more intensive training before everything was finalized. It was a formality. Everyone knew I was the candidate. I wasn’t the toughest, or the smartest, or the fastest, but I was the most dangerous combination of the three. That’s what they wanted. They had it, and I knew it. So when I was sent to meet Ivan, it really was the end of my training.”

“Obviously, he was involved.”

“He was the head of everything, as far as I knew. He orchestrated the whole thing, inherited the job from whoever had it before. I wasn’t the first girl he’d picked off the street. But I was the first Black Widow he’d chosen himself. He was proud.”

“How did you feel?”

“The last time I saw him… He gave me the Widow’s Bites. They were experimental tech at the time. SHIELD’s version is based on them, with some minor differences. ‘Wasp Stings,’ the development team called them. An upgrade, of a kind. More reliable, less risk of shocking myself. And some other key differences.”

“Like what?”

“Wasp stings hurt. Widow bites kill.”

*

_Russia, 2001_

That night, Ivan looked different. Older, maybe, more sinister. The only light he had on in his apartment was a harsh, pale neon, and it buzzed in the back of my mind the whole time I was there. It was the last time, and though I didn’t know it yet, I had a feeling I couldn’t shake, there in the dark corner at the back of my mind, with the buzzing, and my growing anger at Ivan.

That last, little excursion back to Ivan’s apartment was meant to be a reward. I’d won, though no one had officially said anything. I’d done what they wanted, and I would graduate onto actual field training soon after. This was my sojourn, it was shore leave. It was supposed to be happy. But my fists were tight. My body was shaking. I could hardly look at Ivan. I knew, then, exactly why he’d chosen me, so I shouldn’t have been surprised. I shouldn’t really have been angry. But I was. More than I can ever remember being angry before.

“You have done well, Natalia,” Ivan said. “More than any of us expected. And I imagined great things for you when I found you. I knew you were just what we were looking for. But you have exceeded even my expectations. I am proud of you, my dear girl.”

“Thank you,” I said. My voice was flat, dull, empty, hard as stone. It didn’t sound familiar to me. Neither did Ivan’s. I lived in a world of strangers. I was an alien to this planet. I did not belong. My fists were shaking, my knuckles white and bloodless.

“You understand what this means, don’t you Natalia? You will be moving on. We will not see each other much anymore, though I know we haven’t had much time together for the past few years. Well, you understand I think. You are a smart girl, Natalia. You will do your country proud.”

“Thank you,” I said again.

We stood in his bedroom. It was the first time I really remember seeing it. A television hung on the wall. His bed was twice as wide as the one in the program’s dormitory where I’d slept for the last two years. The sheets were some kind of fine, foreign silk. He had the drapes closed to the rain, but through a fold, I could see the grey sky beyond. And I could hear it. It started out slow, then began to thunder, until the rain drowned out the buzzing of the neon lamp.

“You are upset Natalia,” Ivan said. He frowned, in the cartoonish way he used to frown when I was melancholy, when he first found me. I liked it, then. Now, it felt mocking. He was looking down on me. “Here,” he said, “this will make you feel better.” He turned to a box that lay on his bed and handed it to me. It was heavy, and I was afraid to touch it. “What is it?” I asked.

“Open it,” Ivan said.

Mechanically, I did what I was told. I hated myself for doing it, for following another order, but it was what he had asked, and I had no other choice. I pulled the lid off the box, and inside rested two glowing gauntlets. Pieces of metal, like bullets but black as night, strung together by an electric light, which pulsed and hummed like a heartbeat. “Why not try them on?” Ivan asked with a smile. He was so proud. I hated him. I hated his pride. I hated all of it.

I slid the gauntlets on over my fists. There was a small, fingerless gloved looped inside, and I had to unclench my fists to put it on. But when my fingers closed again, I felt a new power there, something thrumming in time with the rage in my blood and the thunder grumbling plaintively outside. When both were on, I clenched and unclenched my fists over and over. The gloves responded with a crackling, electric power.

“These are new,” Ivan said. “You are the first person to use them. I hope you are happy. We have officially named them Widow’s Bites. Very fitting.”

I only looked at him. He saw the ice in my eyes, but not the ice in my veins. My blood ran cold as a tingle crept up my spine, like the spindly fingers of a spider. “Say something, Natalia,” he said. He smiled again.

“Thank you,” I forced myself to say.

“You don’t mean it,” Ivan said.

“Yes I do.”

“No,” Ivan said. “You don’t. Something troubles you, Natalia.”

“Stop - ”

“I will not. We must discuss it. This program has invested a great deal in you. Everything has to be perfect.”

“I’m not - ”

“Is it that girl, Natalia?”

My heart stopped, and the rain seemed to freeze with me. I could hardly breathe. My hands were numb with the thrumming heat on my wrists.

“She is alive,” Ivan said. “She will recover. And she, too, will serve her country, in her own way. But you are stronger, Natalia. You should feel proud.”

I kept my face calm. On the surface, it was smooth, pale, demure. Beneath, the muscles were writhing, waiting for me to release, or else they would snap like elastic.

“You must not be upset for what we asked you to do,” Ivan said. “It was necessary. The girl is meaningless.  _You_  are what we need, Natalia.”

“Don’t,” I said. This time, he did not cut me off, but it was all I could say.

“You will put her from your mind. You will forget. And you will obey the orders given to you. As you did. You did  _well_ , Natalia. Remember your training…”

“Say her name,” I said.

“Excuse me?”

“I told you…” I said, “to say her name.”

“The girl?”

“Say it.”

“I don’t know it, Natalia. Your’s is the only name that matters.”

“ _NO!_ ” I cried. I stamped my foot like a child, and my arms went tense, ready to strike. My whole body coiled, like a snake. “Say her _name!_ ”

“Natalia…”

“ _NO!_ ” I cried. I wanted to smash the windows. I wanted to tear the apartment to the ground. I wanted to breathe smoke. “You will be _silent_ ,” Ivan spat ferociously.

“No,” I said. “You will.”

I leapt at him. I’d never soared like that before, but so coiled, I was ready to spring. I crossed the room in a single bound, and was upon him in a flash. He knocked me aside deftly. Despite his age, he had some skill, unforgotten from whenever he’d last learned and used it. I crashed into the table beside his bed, and he loomed over me, his shadow dark under the neon light. I was on my feet in an instant, but he brushed my aggression aside with a wave of his hand. “Natalia, please,” he said, “this is pointless.”

I roared. I screamed. I flew at him with my arms flailing, but he was too tall, too strong, too fast, surprisingly so, and managed to flip me. The breath was sucked from my lungs as my back struck the floor, and Ivan repositioned himself at the foot of the bed. “You are ruining everything we’ve given you,” Ivan said. “Stop now, before more damage is done.”

“You don’t know what you made!” I cried. “You don’t know what you’ve done!”

“Natalia,” Ivan said. “You really think that - ”

I struck him, and the words never came. After that, he was less interested in talk. We fought for real.

He won, almost every time we clashed. But each of his victories made the fire inside me burn brighter, and hotter, until every inch of my body was aflame and there was nothing else for me to do but burn the world down. So I kept fighting. It was the same as with Anatoly. The same as with Yelena. The same as with every other fight I’d had, except the stakes were higher, the blows harder, the weight more final. This fight was to the death.

Ivan caught me by surprise, and he curled his fingers around my neck. He did not intend to hurt me unnecessarily - he still needed me, after all - but he wanted to weaken me, until I could no longer fight back. I struck at him. The gloves responded with my fists, and something flashed, and a crack like lightning tore through the air. Ivan recoiled with a wail. My skin went cold. I thought I’d done it. In a panic, I scrambled on the floor like an animal, skittering away from where Ivan fell. But he rose from the floor, larger than before. Something burned on his face. His skin looked terrible. The look in his eyes was even worse. “Natalia,” he said. My name sounded vile on his lips.

I tried to strike first, to use my speed, my smaller size, but it was useless. Now Ivan was fighting for real. Now he would hurt me. Now he didn’t care. He dodged my attack, and his boot connected with my stomach. I was lifted off the ground. Something smashed, and suddenly rain was hitting my face. He had kicked me onto the balcony, through the curtains and the closed doors.

It was over, or at least it should have been. I was soaked within a minute. My back lay in a puddle on the concrete, while the rain pelted my face. I was bleeding somewhere, I didn’t know from how many places. All I remember was Ivan standing over me. His presence was a threat: move, and be beaten further, stay still, comply, and it will end. I was torn. I still hated him. I still wanted to fight. But could I?  _Should_  I? What use was my hatred? What good would revenge do?

“Is it finished, Natalia?” Ivan asked. His face was irreparably scarred. At least I had done that to him. “Is it over now? It has always been this way. You had no other choice. Once you came with me, this was the only outcome. This, or death. You have succeeded. You have overcome. You are strength, Natalia, you are power. You are  _Russia_ , our best hope. Why must you do this? Why must you fight?”

“Yelena,” I breathed. It was not a response to him. Her’s was the only name on my mind, the only thought on my lips. “This should not have happened,” Ivan said. “The conditioning should have taken hold. This must be rectified.” I realized he was speaking mostly to himself. He turned away from me, and I lifted myself onto my elbows. “This attachment will only hurt our chances,” Ivan murmured. “It must be ended.”

“Ivan.”

“You misunderstand me, Natalia,” Ivan said. “You are affectionate. This is good. But it must be controlled. It must be measured. It…”

He never finished what he would say. But I knew it. He hit the ground. Unprepared, I was able to use his full weight against him, and I brought him down where I had been. Flat on his back, in the rain. I was soaked through, and the chill had settled deep in my bones. Deeper, even. My entire body was cold, through to my heart. “Natalia,” he said. “Don’t…”

“Don’t say my name.”

Ivan did not die gracefully. I did not kill well, then. It was the first time. I had to learn. But I would. And that first death, my first  _kill_ , would never leave me.

The water conducted the jolt of the Bites. The electricity rippled almost through the sky, into the air. I could feel the heat off it, and my hands tingled until they went numb. The weapons weren’t perfect. Experimental. They hurt me to use them, but they were effective. I learned that quickly. Ivan lay under me, eyes blank, mouth open. Tears burned hot trails down my face, still soaked by the rain. I was alone in the world again. All alone.

But it was in that moment when I realized. I was  _free_. They program had let me visit Ivan. I was not monitored. I was not being watched, or prodded, or trained. Ivan would have returned me, but Ivan was… I was  _free_.

My body acted on its own. I had no time to think. I left Ivan’s apartment with only the clothes I wore, and the Bites. It rained for two days afterwards, and I never got fully warm. But I was free. Or at least, I thought so at first…

When they found me, when the program came after me, it wasn’t just the teachers, or the students. They brought everything. That’s when I really learned what it meant to fight for my life. That’s when it all went to hell. My first real test as the Black Widow.

Ivan was right about one thing, though. I’d said I wasn’t a killer. I was wrong. He had done that to me, at the cost of his own life. As I left his apartment that night, disappearing into the rainy streets, I wondered if he’d be proud. He got what he wanted, after all.


End file.
